Joker Games
by ScarCrow
Summary: Movieverse, set approx a year after The Dark Knight. Please rate and review!
1. The Nutcracker

The Pencil skimmed across the paper, creating an odd scratching sound in the luscious environment of the office.

The Psychiatrist pushed her glasses up her nose with a finger and ran a hand idly through her Nordic blonde hair as she beheld the patient in front of her. He...was difficult, he always would be. 4 different psychiatrists in less than six months. Finally, her bosses had decided to bring in the big guns, they'd brought in her to try and figure him out. Hell they even brought Crane in to do this job, and he got nowhere.

Though looking back on what happened to him now, she guessed he got nowhere with any of his patients

"Good Evening Mister-"

"J. Mister J" The patient replied with a curt lick of his lips and a saccharine wave of his hand, one she almost would have considered a shrug. "I take it you have my actual name from your little 'transcripts' there though"

"No" The Psychiatrist replied, smiling despite her nervousness and terror. She couldn't look him in the eye; it was the warpaint that put her off - like some kind of demented clown.

"You look nervous..." he said as she caught a glimpse of puppy dog eyes. Pushing her glasses up again though, the psychiatrist smiled politely "is it me?"

"No, I'm just...don't worry about it" she replied "what is you is the three bodies you killed before you came here, last night in the cell block I believe" The psychiatrist said, all business "care to tell me anything about those?"

To her surprise the prisoner just laughed; a deep, hollow sound that echoed off the walls of the office.

"Ha ehee aha aho ha hee ha" The patient said, the tongue curling around his lips again before he looked sternly at the psychiatrist, as if seriously pondering something "Look, I'm going to put it you simply...you could put me in a helicopter, take me ten thousand above sea level, show me everyone I've killed and it still wouldn't be enough. How many have I killed?"

"Twenty one" the psychiatrist replied and the makeup wearing patient looked off distantly, nodding as he got up and began to pace the room. "You still haven't answered my question though..."

"Whats your name, gorgeous?" The patient asked, eyeing the psychiatrist off spontaneously as he paced, his hands being thrown open in elaborate gestures.

"Harleen." The psychiatrist swallowed as she answered the question "Harleen Quinzel"

"Now, I'm going to presume" the patient, Mister J or whoever it was said, cocking his head to the side theatrically as he asked his questions "There's a doctor added on 

there for added pomp, Miss Quinzel?"

"Yes" Harleen swallowed

"You ever been to a physics class? I know I have..." 'J' said with a spine chilling tone in his voice "In physics class they teach you fun things like gunpowder and dynamite...and gasoline" The psychiatrist just swallowed audibly as 'J' continued "But they also teach you variables..."

"Now imagine, just for one minute, that every single human being is a variable in some big science experiment. Now you have your experimented, the schemers, they try to control the variables, if you will. Minimize their impact..."

The pencil scratched on the paper, it hid the stench of fear that Harleen felt was clinging round her like a second skin right now.

"You see variables serve their purpose. They make the experiment a little...interesting. A little...chaotic, if you will" Mr J licked his lips "and that's all I am, that's all those deaths are, are chaotic...they're there to make the experiment interesting. The deaths...the craziness...the being locked in here" J said, raising his eyes, and his hands to the roof "Its all testing the variables, and you see the funny thing is...I'm not the one counting score...I leave that to the more morbidly minded"

"You're insane" she said as she drew to eye level with him, his arms now bound by two burly guardsmen

"I tend to prefer the term ahead of the curve" He smiled, his tongue plying out again over his lips as he was escorted away "Be seeing you..."

He was a tough nut to crack...it seemed

She was tougher...


	2. The Wolf Pit Part 1

"It is my request, your honour, that the defendant face the death penalty"

"Objection" the cry rang out through the wooden courthouse "I would like to petition for life imprisonment..."

Harleen nodded from her spot near the front of the defendant's panel. She'd already given her psychological analysis on "Mr Joe Kerr" to the judge and it had been proven and deemed adequate. Folding her fingers over each other in her lap, she looked across at the differing attorneys.

"You want to let a man, who I need remind this court held this city, its mayor, police commissioner and high official's hostage during his reign of terror. Blew up Gotham Hospital and caused untold billions of dollars of carnage...serve his life behind bars? Need I remind your honour that if our situations were reversed, the defendant would have no qualms about killing us dead right here"

"Oh you got that right..." J laughed, his insane cackle chilling everyone in the courthouse

"It's not him requesting it" Harleen felt herself rise and address the DA. "It's me..."

The cackling stopped for a brief moment, only to be replaced with concerned murmurs.

"Doctor Quinzel, I find this most-" The judge began

"Your Honour" Harleen said "I'd like to keep the defendant for as long as seems fit. Despite what these people here think, this man has something of a sharp intellect behind him, and if it can be redirected, well let me say the results could be marvellous to say the least"

"I presume you have a point" the judge asked "I'm still waiting to hear it"

"In my psych profile of the defendant, I offered that he might have inkling as to the other 'theatrical' case going around..." Harley gulped "That of Batman..."

"You think this demented clown knows who Batman is?" The judge scoffed "He may as well be Bruce Wayne for all we know..."

"My point still stands" Harleen said, not backing down. The Judge merely rubbed his temples...he was getting too old for this

"Fine. I can make a one month recess. But if I find a single anomaly in your psych reports, Miss Quinzel, you're in that stand and not him"

"You know the only thing keeping you here is my desire to rehabilitate you" Harleen said the next day, her calm demeanour already wearing as thin as the lead pencil 

she chewed on nervously "So let's begin. Let's talk about last night...last night you killed a man with a lead pencil and have made another's hand totally disabled...what have you got to say about that?"

"See, after my last exploits, the shrinks have labelled me as something akin to ADHD" The patient, J said "Never having a plan...being the carefree villain...who pretends to have his head in the clouds while everyone loses their mind"

Harleen swallowed and let her pen do the talking, scribbling notes as he stared at her, his eyes boring into hers from the thick pits of black makeup around them.

"But you see...you've changed things" J said, and Harleen looked up, shocked at him "Yes...you. You see I'm not normal. Prison, it's supposed to beat down people like me; make us think about what we have done." J paused, letting his words sink in before he continued

"Not me though. Oh no..." J's eyes wandered yet again, playing out across each and every feature of the room as he pondered "Prison for me of grabbing every stray thought, and like a boy leading a retarded dog to its kennel, turn it all into one, simple...thought" J licked his lips menacingly, nodding at Harley as he smirked, playfully nodding at the guard. "Do you know what that thought is?"

"Excuse me Ma'am" The guard said gruffly "If I can be excused for a couple of minutes..."

"Go right on ahead" Harleen said and then leaned over the desk; looking her patient dead in the eye s the guard left them "Tell me..." she said

"Escape" J smirked, and Harley's ears pricked up t a sound she had rarely ever heard before: sirens. Warning sirens.

"I mean, I really gotta hand it to ya Doc" J said smiling "A couple more seconds in that chair and I woulda been deader than last night's dog meat. But you..." he waggled a thin finger at her articulately "You put on your best puppy dog eyes and your best 'poor him' expression and you convinced them. Allowing me to just walk right on out..."

"I must say this has been pleasant conversation, but I have to get back" Harleen said, rising to move to the door. It was at that moment though, that the officer came through brandishing his shotgun, a clown mask donned over his head. Harleen's eyes went wide as she saw the shotgun he brandished at her, motioning at her to back up.

"Oh no no no no no..." J said, chuckling as Harleen was motioned down to sit on the couch by the shotgun totting, clown masked security guard. "There's no going back"

Then he cackled


	3. The Wolf Pit Part 2

Harleen bit down on her lip to try and stop the tears of fear that welled up inside her as Mister J walked past. A group of cronies; both corrupt guards and outsider cons, carried a collection of shotguns and machine pistols as both for the safety of their boss and a not so subtle reminder of who really held the power here.

"Good evening Gentlemen...and Lady" The Joker said as he paced throughout the cellblock, showing a fleeting glance Harleens way as he added the afterthought "You've already witnessed something amazing, but how would you like to live it? Hmm?" The Joker cocked his head at the prisoners as if savouring their expected response

"You see, my men and I, we have...a couple of extra guns. We have room for some..." The Joker paused, licking his lips and chewing on his tongue before his eyes narrowed, the cogs finally turned enough in his head to allow him to speak the words "...aggressive expansion."

"So what's the deal?" One con, a bald gorilla of a man with a swastika tattooed on his forehead piped up. Without missing a beat, the Joker extended his arm and gunned the convict who had spoken out mercilessly, the ratta-tat-tat of the 9mm Uzi bullets echoing off the granite cell block walls.

"We're going to try a little social experiment. First of all, as I just _explicitly_ pointed out, I don't want there to be any talking out of turn..." The Joker chuckled "But as you can see...me and my...uhhh...boys here have a few numbers that need topping up"

"Lets all rewind the clock to before you were bought in here. You were all kingpins of your own little Ivy Leagues, but you all lost your balls, or someone lost them for you..."

"Hey ma-" another con tried before BLAM! The shotgun blast echoed through the prison chamber fired from the gun of one of the corrupt, clown masked law enforcement officers. The prisoner sank to his knees, slowly at first before gravity got a hold and he slid down to the floor, crunching on the hard tiles with a sickening thud and crunch of bones, his head a third of its size.

"Interruptions..." Joker mumbled to himself before turning his eyes back up towards the line of convicts "Now where was I...ah yes..."

"You see I have a theory...you may call it theory of evolution. Now, schemers, they'll tell you it's the strongest who survive, or the smartest, or the fittest. No...I think it's something completely different..." Joker smirked and his tongue flicked out of his lips again, like a lizard swatting fly's "Its strangest who survive...I mean look at Batman...how hard has that bastard been to kill?" There were assorted chuckles amongst the criminals, many who had been brought in by Gotham's caped crusader "That's why I'm starting the first round of Joker Games..."

"In this first round, the objective is simple: It's a dog eat dog world... Eat or be eaten... Kill or be killed...that's why all it is to be the last man standing. Only the last man standing is ever going to make it out of here alive...and just to prove a little 

extra incentive..." The Joker withdrew the Uzi and placed a fresh clip in the stock before throwing it into the centre of the floor; directly into the wolf's pit.

And with that complete and utter carnage broke out throughout the prison block...

Harleen watched from her position in the corner as the convicts all took to each other with a brutal abandon, pulling knives from concealed spots on their body and plunging in with berserk rage. Ten of the convicts went down within the first twenty seconds of the announcement; all having been caught off guard as knives slipped into their vital organs and pressure points with sickening impact. Harleen slung back into the shadows as the madness spread, no man able to get an upper hand over the other.

Soon enough, the playing field had been levelled out until only a few convicts remained, fighting it out resolutely for position. Harleen noticed a knife on the ground next to a dead prisoner and picked it up, she'd need it if she had any hope of surviving.

Soon enough the blood had been spilt enough, and one man remained, Harley saw from her position in the shadows. He was bald, and short and somewhat thin, and he moved, his posture, mimicked that of a snake.

"Do I get out of here now?" the snake man asked the shadows for an answer "I'm the last one standing"

"Oh I don't think so" Joker replied, pointing at Harleys hiding spot. Harley's eyes went wide as Snake turned and beheld her before his eyes went to the gun laying on the floor "well hello beautiful..." he intoned deeply, smirking as he did so.

Harleen's legs kicked in before her brain and she ran towards the gun a split second before Snakes reactions did likewise, bolting after it with all possible haste.

They dived, seemingly as one towards the hope of salvation, arms outstretched to grasp for it.

Harleen looked up after she had dived, only to see a barrel pressed into the fleshy spot between her eyes.

"Game Over" Snake said. Harleen shut her eyes, embracing the end as the prisoner pulled the trigg-

_Click-_

_Click-click-click-click-click-_

Harleen opened her eyes to see the prisoner, his eyes wide and bulging, looking up at her, the knife in her hand, realization dawning on her.

_The Joker had loaded the gun with blanks..._

Harleen looked down into the eyes of the criminal, knife in hand, and nodded once. 

She'd already made her choice. It was what Mister J had said after all: Kill or be killed...

Wiping the blood off of the blade as she stared at J standing in the doorframe, Harleen saw only his huge smile and his approving glance as she panted heavily, sucking in oxygen in the absence of adrenaline

"That's more like it, Harley" he said


	4. The Bank

_"_What do we do now that we've escaped?" Harleen had asked once they had broken outside the prison, her voice still betraying her timidness around the assorted freak show. J had just smiled t her as they walked, his tone impassive through the vast, echo inducing alleyways of Gotham's back streets

"What any self respecting criminal does when they just get out of the slammer" J had smirked as he replied, like a parent admonishing a child for the first time "Re-offend..."

And that was why she was packed into a car with 3 other guys - a mix of two corrupt cops totting shotguns, a driver, and herself. Mister J had said that he wanted to direct the more impulsive members of their gang of thief's and so he had travelled in the other car, which pulled up behind them at the Banks frontal car park, the ornate columns and reliefs of the building dwarfing the old cars that the gang used for transportation.

"Everyone has masks?" one of the cops, Grinner, asked before with a distinct _shuck-shuck_ he loaded his shotgun, bailing out of the car. The others did too, except the driver, who, as not to suspend suspicion, pulled out into the traffic and drove away.

They crested the stairs until they found themselves in front of the ornate glass doors, loitering for a minute to hide the public view of the shotguns before BLAM! They went off...shattering the glass of the doors inwards as they were accompanied by requisite screams.

"Everyone hands up heads down" Grinner said as Harley and the others fanned out amongst the crowd of normal bankers "No, want them up in the air, and I want them heads on the floor...NOW..." Grinner shoved the shotgun in the tellers face.

It was then, with pure theatricality, that Harley saw Mr J make his appearance. Walking through the blown glass doors with a calm and controlled step "Nice Job" he mumbled, before he walked amongst the crowd of the restrained bank clientele, addressing them as one.

"Good Morning assorted freaks of Gotham..." He began, grinning as he addressed the assembled crowd, crossing the floor so that he could get to the bank tellers desk, the teller, a young blonde woman's eyes went wide as approached her "Me and my...uhhh...friends here, would like to make a withdrawal"

"You're insane" The teller spat "What makes you think we're just going to give you money?"

"A sense of decency and ethics..." Joker rebutted, smirking as he pulled a knife from his pocket, pressing it against the jawbone of the teller as he pulled her close over the counter "You see...I'm initiating round 2 of Joker Games. You know what Joker games are?" The teller shook her pretty blonde head: no. Joker licked his lips once, savouring and feeling out the words as thought of them "They're my version of the Olympics...they're here to provide a little bit of chaotic fun to the rest of us"

"Now...my...uhhh...game for you this evening is this-" Joker said, rubbing her cheek 

with the flat of the knife as if to emphasize a point as he pulled a Joker playing card from his pocket, holding it in front of her eyes. "You have two options..."

"Option 1...on this card I have three account numbers. I'll give you..." Joker checked his watch lazily "oooh about 5 minutes to transfer 50 million dollars from the first two accounts and 20 million from the third account into this here bag. However..." he waggled a finger in her face, smirking again "For every second off the five minute mark, I will kill someone in this bank. Above or below, it doesn't matter. And..In addition...for every dollar, every single dollar off what I just told you...I'll kill another person"

"However, you have another option" Joker said, withdrawing his knife "You see...I know you keep those safe codes back there somewhere...every bank does. So, you can give them to me, straight in hand. No time limit. No money limit. The only hitch is that 5 people will die..." Joker said "are we perfectly clear?"

"I- I- I...yes" The teller stammered, trying to hide away from his green eyes as she looked under the desk for the codes, every part of her shaking as he waited patiently.

"I wouldn't listen to him" an elderly man spoke up from where he was on the ground. Harleen watched, as, just like the cell block, J just extended his arm again and shot three picture perfect rounds into his head, the man's head gushed out blood like an overripe tomato...J merely walked over to the body and poked it with his toe and as the assorted crowd screamed at the gun shots.

"What did I tell you about interrupting me?" J asked, before he looked up, noticing the assorted crowd staring at him. Smiling, he turned to the teller, who had her hand extended over the desk, a slip of paper with scrawling on it being offered to the war painted criminal.

"Look, I'll do you a favour and count that one as a death already" Joker smiled, as his eyes turned slowly, ever so slowly onto Harleen's "Harley, pick four of us to go down to the vault..."

"Grinner, Bonkers, Dooley and Lieutenant Longfoot" Harley said without thinking. The four gentlemen crossed the floor to go to the vault almost immediately, their guns trained in front of them.

"Oh no no no" J said before they reached the door "when I meant Vault...I meant Hell"

"Now wait just a minute-" Grinner began before his eyes went wide with comprehension "Oh hell no..."

Joker's machine gun rattled through the four men, killing them within seconds as blood poured out over the steps. Walking over to the teller and grabbing the slip of paper, Joker grinned manically, his eyes going very wide "Bloods on your hands now" he cackled before he led his gang of bandits out from the bank foyer to the vault "Be seeing you..."

The vault was barely a hop, skip and a jump way from the foyer, and there were no guards to take off so to speak, Harleen thought as she punched in the codes, the door unlocking itself pneumatically as soon as she punched in the last digit, it was almost too easy

Her thoughts were confirmed when she caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure in the dead centre of the vault, their back turned to her...


	5. Strange People in Strange Places

Selina Kyle's eyes stung as they adjusted to the light that streamed in through the open vault door, her retinas widening. She had become adept at realizing light changes ever since a young girl; the youngest (and probably most successful) cat burglar ever in Gotham's history. More and more light streamed in before she realized that there were figures in the doorway, their shadows giving them away..."Meow" she said sarcastically, somewhat antagonised by the intruders.

"Ooh...a kitty!" The Joker said, laughing as he rushed over towards her, arms outstretched as if trying to hug her, thinking she was a real cat "I wanna play with the little kitty..."

_Whi-CRACK!_

The whip in Selena's hand snaked out and checked the advancing clown, catching him on the cheek just above the jawbone. In fact, it had lashed The Joker on the very edge of his scars that ran like an extended smile, forcing them to bleed into what amounted to a morbid and macabre parody of a frown. The Joker stopped and wiped the blood away with a dirty sleeve cuff, looking down at the blood in the most serious tone that he had had since he had asked for the vault codes in the foyer.

"Oh, you shouldn' a done that..." Joker said, flicking a knife from his pocket and juggling it from hand to hand as he regarded her "You've made me turn all...serious"

"You're insane..." Selina said incredously, her jaw dropping open

"And you're so...dull" Joker rebutted immediately before he nodded at her, fixing his unkempt yellow mane in place with a handful of spit "No...I really do mean that. You're all Robin Hood in...Ahem" The Joker said, clearing his throat theatrically "...spandex;, stealing from the rich of the city to feed the poor. Meanwhile leading a normal life...pay the bills, feed your face, blah blah blah. When did a girl like you ever get so...boring? What happened to the lighter side of life, Hmm?"

"The light side was changed when I saw how Gotham's normal people survived" Selina snapped as Joker took a hip flask out of his pocket, taking a swig and savouring it in his mouth "You can't laugh when you've got nothing to laugh at"

Joker cocked his head again, before spitting the contents of his mouth all over Selina, dousing her in a combination of Saliva, Mucus and other liquids. Selina was taken by surprise first, and flinched as the liquid hit her, shutting her eyes for the briefest of a second, allowing The Joker to draw a lighter from his pocket.

"Ya know what I think?" Joker cackled "I think you need to live every day like it's your last...You need to just...lighten up a little" As he intoned the final words he threw the lighter at Selina, igniting the mix of flammable chemicals that he had spit onto her.

Selina rolled with the flames, fighting to get them off her body, but due to the plastic nature of her bodysuit, found that the damage had already been done; the plastic 

had already burnt directly to her skin. Fighting through the pain, Selina gritted her teeth, dropping a small, black statuette on the floor as a memento of her arrival in the bank vault.

"I'll be back to see you rot in hell, you twisted bastard" she spat through gritted teeth, the burns and bruises already beginning to fight through the adrenaline. Turning to go, she leapt straight back up the shaft she'd used to bore her way in, the pneumatic 'cats claws' gripping devices in her suit working to ensure she had handgrips. Joker licked his lips as he looked up at the vault, his eyes slowly turning back to Harley with a devious, delinquent, are-you-thinking-what-I'm-thinking type look upon his face.

"Now my dear, where were we?"


	6. The Bank Job

"I take it you watch the headlines?" Lucius Fox said the next morning within his limousine, rifling idly through the newspapers as he sat in the backseat. His passenger, however, sat rigidly, some would even say deathly still, her sunglasses on despite the tint of the windows in the company car shading all but the harshest of rays. Lucius looked up at her, his eyes trying to meet hers.

"Yes I do" She replied, her eyes matching his behind the glasses "It helps me track; find a discernable pattern"

"Then you'll know Wayne Corp lost 50 million in this bank robbery yesterday" Lucius said, folding the paper and placing it beside him "Mister Wayne wants you to investigate who was behind it..."

"What? Brucey boy doesn't have enough pocket change?" she asked, glancing out the window "Look just point me at the crime scene...I'll deal with the rest"

"That's more like it Miss-" Lucius smiled, folding his glasses neatly in front of him "That's precisely why Mr Wayne hired you..."

The car ground to a halt suddenly, and Lucius calculated it all; they were still somewhat of a way away from Gotham Central Bank. Letting down the electric windows, Lucius looked out the window, only to be met by a member of Gotham's police force, his chestnut brown hair and blue eyes marking him as a junior constable.

"Sorry sir, but the roads here are blocked" the constable said in a calm voice "Police investigations..."

"That's precisely why I'm here, Constable" Fox said "I had an appointment with the Commissioner about said investigations..."

"Ah..." The constable said, scratching his head nervously "In that case... you'll find him at the bank...he's got some genius level IQ investigator there with him as well"

"Shouldn't be too hard to find..." Fox said and nodded at his driver once and wound the window back up "Thankyou for your time Constable"

As the car picked up speed through the police roadblock again, Lucius Fox turned back to his client, regarding her for a second.

"How good were you on your report card at school?" he asked idly, mentally flipping through files on his client. After all, he didn't want to be caught napping by a rogue employee.

"Straight A's" she replied coldly "I thought you would have known that..."

"I was talking more along the lines of 'plays well with others'" Lucius retorted "It looks as if the police have brought in a carbon copy of you..."

"I work alone" she replied, pushing the glasses up her nose with a slight sniff

"You don't get a choice on the matter" Fox said "Gordon's rung this one in...He had too to save face. Things haven't exactly been the best for Gotham's finest of late..."

"Fine. Tell him he'd better not have touched anything" she grumbled as the car pulled up at the bank, already having been waved in by a plain clothes policeman.

"You can tell him yourself" Lucius smiled as he stepped from the car, her following almost immediately after, to see the weathered and bespectacled face of James Gordon greeting them.

"Mr Fox" Gordon said, offering a handshake

"Commissioner" Fox replied, shaking hands "I've got our private eye here, she'll be starting immediately"

"I have to remind you that this is most unnecessary, Lucius" Gordon protested "Usually, the needs of private corporations that have been stolen from don't necessitate a private eye-"

"WayneCorp was stolen from, Commissioner" Lucius said, memorizing the note Bruce Wayne had slipped him that morning for just such an eventuality

"So was the Harvey Dent Foundation for Law Scholarships" Jim Gordon responded annoyedly "and yet I don't see them sending in their own investigators..."

"Commissioner, if I may be so bold" Fox said calculatingly "Need I remind you that our private investigator will be payed out of Bruce Wayne's personal finances and be reporting her findings directly to you and only you for the duration of this investigation..."

Gordon sighed and then rubbed his temples, shrugging his way to the blown glass door "I suppose I can't argue with that, you're a harsh bargainer, Mr Fox"

"Just one of a few little talents God saw fit to give me" Fox shrugged it off "Now I hear you got your own man here, genius level IQ or something. Care to tell me?"

"Not really" Gordon said as he made a gesture towards a green suited, crew cut man who wore sunglasses that looked a lot like Lucius' female clients "But may I introduce Simon Pherelli..."

"Pleasures all mine" Lucius mumbled as Simon just inclined his head, steady as a whisper.

Lucius' Client, meanwhile, was in amongst the bank, staring at the various desks, tellers and blood splatter patterns over the floor. Obviously something had happened, but wha-

It was at that moment her cell phone went off, vibrating in her pocket as she fumbled 

to get it and flip it open

"Yes?"

"Is this the Huntress?" a male voice on the other end asked, she pressed the phone closer to her ear at the mention of the name...how-

"Who is this?" she asked plainly, her anxiety growing with each passing second.

"The man who hired you" the voice replied

"Try again" Huntress replied "That mans standing outside...and I can see him..._and _you sound nothing like him"

"How about the other man who hired you?" the voice asked dryly, and Huntress nearly dropped the phone in disbelief as comprehension dawned on her face

"Bruce? Bruce Wayne?" she asked, still trying to wrap her head around it

"The one and only" he replied "I thought you were told you'd be working closely with me..."

"Yeah but not this closely" Huntress responded "I thought I'd be reporting to Fox and then on to you"

"Nope, I want to find this one myself" Bruce responded "Someone wanted to sting WayneCorp and they wanted to sting us big, and I want to know who it is and why"

"Hence why you got me" Huntress deduced, stepping from the polished marble of the foyer floor to the concrete of the back areas with careful precision

"Exactly" Bruce replied before he paused, maybe for theatrical affect, she couldn't tell "Any progress so far?"

"I only just got here" Huntress said "Cops have bought in some genius...looks like he may be a Princeton Grad...the works. Look as if our villains went straight for the vault though. I'm just about inside now..." Huntress said, shimmying her way in through the ajar vault door, its giant stainless steel locking mechanism open but not blown, which she found surprising.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the vault quickly before she pulled a tiny penlight from her breast pocket, clipping it onto the frame of her glasses as she looked around. Her ear still pressed to her phone.

"Looks as if they made off with quite a bit..." she said, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the floor "then again 120 million isn't exactly loose change..."

Her eyes narrowed even further when she saw a peculiar array in the centre of the floor and her head tilted to the side to observe it briefly. It was unique, a most souvenirs left by villains were nowadays. It was a calling card. No...2 calling cards.

"I got something here" she said, but got no reply on the other end

Picking up the larger and heavier of the objects, the Huntress twisted it in her hands, looking for any signs of signatures or anything else, but got nothing. It was a black statue of an Egyptian cat, complete with halved marbles to create the eyes. It would probably fetch a bargain as a replica in a museum gift shop, to Huntress however, it proved it was just a calling card. _Damn..._

"We have a cat figurine" she said, adding a last comment dryly "Anyone you hate obsessed with cats?"

It was the second calling card, however, that caught her attention. Card was the right word for it as well, as it was a simple playing card, except for this one time, it was custom printed; the letters J, O, K, E and R all adorned the edges. It was the picture that looked equally customised, however, with a medieval jester carrying a medal in one hand and a bat mask in the other. Inscribed on the back in scrawly handwriting were the words "Bruce Wayne must die...". It took Huntress a minute to register it before the words left her mouth, her jaw hanging slack.

"We got a playing card as well..." Huntress said still staring at the macabre imagery and handwritten message "He's back..."


	7. Delusions of a criminal intellect

So..." The Joker said once he and Harley had made their way to the hideout for the night – a dingy apartment payed for with a couple of threats and money from the bank "Should I suspect you for letting the cat out of the bag back there?"

"What?" Harleen said disbelievingly

"Oh, cat gotcha tongue huh?" He said angrily "Your mind going a little bit...senile in your old age hmmm? I'm talking about the girl dressed up in the cat suit in the vault back there, was she a friend of yours?"

"No..." Harleen said, her eyes annoyed as she tried to analyse his apparent paranoia "No she wasn't..."

"She seemed as if she worked for the Batman" Joker continued, staring off into a world of his own as he ranted before snapping back to reality "I seem paranoid don't I...almost delusional...It's all cause of the Batman..."

"I've watched all his actions...I know it was probably a mistake...I've seen all the cruelty he inflicts. I've seen...I've seen all the pain he dishes out. I- I've seen the suffering people like me receive from people like him...I've seen Batman...and every time I was in your little...ahem" Joker cleared his throat "...hell hole... and closed my eyes, Thats all I'd see...is him, again and again and again" Joker said, looking venerable, like a small child in a very big mans world; as if he head been brought to a whole different level that he couldn't ever be accustomed too "But I may have found a little...inner peace"

"I've found that inner piece because I've now learned to surround myself with MY instruments of terror..." Joker chuckled drawing in a hoarse amount of breath "...dynamite, bullets and gasoline. And I know these better than anyone esle alive. With these things I almost pushed the Batman to the brink of madness..."

"Look, with these things...theres no darkness for the batman to hide in; no mask for him to hide behind, its just me and the three things that have cemented my legacy to this 'civilized' city" Joker said "But I think I've found one person that can help me, doc. One person who can ensure that I finally ruin the entire game for these people, and that person, Doctor Quinzel..." Joker said, a leer appearing on his face as he panted, drawing in deep, gasping breathes "That person is you..."

"Me?" Harleen asked, her eyes regarding him seriously as she tried to level her gaze "I would never betray the people of this city...I only went ahead with your little scheme because my life was at stake..."

"Ah ahahaha" Joker laughed deadpan "Nice try, but you don't fool me, Doc. No, you're never going to fool me. You see, I set up these little...urm... trials, with you in mind, doc. You know why I ask why so serious? Hmm?" Harleen shook her head no as he started advancing on her, getting up close, getting personal; _almost too personal _"Its because in you I found a kindred spirit; a sort of...controlled chaos... that just yearned to be spilt out everywhere"Joker said, spreading his hands wide "First I thought you just hid behind your pens, paying no attention to me at all, then when I realised, I really had to rile you up about it though, stretch you like an elastic band until you just...snapped" he laughed "But then I realized a more...a more...a more interesting way to make that side come out. It was simple; I threw you in the proverbial deep end and not only teach you how to swim, I made sure you swam..."

"Psychology teaches you things, Harley" Joker said continuing as he paced "and what it taught me was that people...every single one of them... are one of three things; crazy, dumb or so concerned about self preservation they'll sell their souls. Guess which you are?" Harleen bit her lip, her eyes beginning to well up with tears as she considered it all. _All the blood was on her hands now..._

"Oh no, don't cry...why do you have to be so serious?" Joker said, slipping his hand inside his breast pocket for what Harleen thought was a hankerchief, but her eyes widened as they beheld a knife The Joker pressing it up against her jaw violently "Let's put a smile on that face..."


	8. Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat

Chapter 8 – Pussy Cat Pussy Cat, where have you been...

"Fuzzy..." Selina said, stumbling into the east end alleyway in a haze. She was burnt and thirsty and tired; having to evade the cops for a day usually did that. She was impressed that she managed to evade them again though – that useless clown and his wannabe lover had nearly screwed up everything.

"Fuzzy, Come On!" she continued, slamming her fist on the door of the workshop with a renewed fervour "I swear, if there's another girl, I'll-"

"You'll what?" The ever grinning face of VJ 'Fuzzy' Kingston said, opening the door at that very moment. A former east ender street kid raised on that neighbours three pillars of sex, drugs and rap music, he had turned out quite well since Selina had taken him under her wing. He had also developed an extremely acute brain and wit; two things that he never grew tired of with Selina

"Claw your eyes out" Selina said as she shoulder barged her way through the door "You first, her next"

"Jealous much?" Fuzzy mumbled as he walked across and sat at his dingy workbench, donning a pair of workmen's glasses that held, amongst other things, a penlight, and several magnifying lenses.

"I'm not jealous..." Selina replied as she sat down on the counter and began tearing her skin tight suit down the middle "I'm bitchy...now shut up and throw me those alcohol swabs, will you?"

VJ picked up a box and underarmed them to the older woman, his eyes not leaving the intricate piece of equipment he seemed to be studying "Are you trying to systematically destroy your entire outfit?" he asked idly, his eyes snapping up to view her apprehensively.

Selina didn't reply at first, initially wincing as she applied the alcohol to the burnt flesh she had pulled the pieces of burnt leather from. "Fuzz, this thing is burnt into my flesh" she said slowly and calmly, pulling down her ripped and torn collar as if to show him a particularly nasty burn above the cleavage before she chuckled "I think it was wrecked before I got here..."

"Damn, girl..." Fuzzy said, his eyebrows shooting up "Did you nightclub in a fireplace today or something?"

"I got set on fire at the bank, Fuzz" Selina said before her eyes widened, an idea coming to her "I need a new outfit...something new...something I can fight back in..."

"Like Batman...?" Fuzz said, his attention still fixiated on the electronics at his desk

"Exactly" Selina admitted, nodding

"I think I may have a few pieces...hold on" VJ said, shoving everything on his workbench to the side with a crude push and dumping a small box of assorted technologies in its place "This suit you...?"

Selina walked over and idly picked up a pair of Night Vision Goggles, placing them in front of her eyes in a test pattern "VJ, I must say I'm impressed, kiddo" she said, slapping the young man on the back and slipping on a pair of retractable claws, her voice going low "Very...impressed..."

"Like Batman exactly..." VJ grinned "I'll have it for you as soon as I can..possibly within 24 hours...now you should get some sleep..."

"Yeah, mind if I crash on your couch?" Selina said, running a hand through her hair "The streets don't fill me with confidents after a day like today..."

She was right...

Dreams of a demented clown throwing fire at you were never fun...


	9. Jim and the Bat Part 1

It was 11pm, and most of Gotham had headed home for the night, driven by the comfort of warm foods, warm beds and warm arms of loving family. Jim Gordon, unfortunately, hadn't been so lucky...

His work wasn't even half done yet...

Striding through to the vault of the bank, Jim frowned as he opened the manila file he held in his hand, perusing the contents; 2 polaroid photographs, the paperwork for the 120 million that had been filed out of the three accounts, and more photographs; this time of the faces that had appeared on the security camera footage at the time of the assault.

Nodding to the young officer to stand down as he approached the vault door, Jim inclined his head slightly as he slid in through the still ajar vault door, his dark coat flapping slightly due to the sudden movement.

Phirelli and Bruce's P.I were inside the vault, like they had been all day, checking every single square inch of the place in case of evidence of what had happened. Nothing had been turned up besides the playing card and the statuette, and Gordon frowned. 25 years in the police force and he hadn't ever seen a criminal be this thorough...it worried him.

"Making progress?" Gordon asked idly as he entered the vault, seeing both members of the team sweeping separate ultra violet scanners over the floor.

"Sort of" Simon responded, placing the blue light down and walking over to a marked point of concrete. "Theres a large burn mark here...almost as if they set off some form of napalm in the centre...which is what it sort of turned out to be..." she held a test tube of calcified scratching in front of her

"What is that?" Gordon asked naively. He'd been a detective, not a scene investigator.

"What they used..." Simon replied, twirling the test tube over between his long finers with a rakish smile "it's a 20/20/40/20 combination of ammonia nitrate, ethanol, kerosene and acetone, very flammable stuff that can all be gained fairly easily. Looks like our villain has a bit of a pyro streak in him..."

"Why are you down here anyway?" The other investigator, the one Bruce Wayne had called in specifically for the job piped up from the corner

"I wanted to stop by for a chat" Gordon said, shrugging

"Thanks, but we've got things handled around here" she replied "and I thought you wanted things done as quickly as possible...?"

"I brought the evidence..." Gordon said as he set the folder down on an unoccupied table, his eyes peering over his glasses almost as if he hadn't heard the question.

"Thanks" Huntress responded sardonically as she turned her back to the wall, viewing Gordon with a sarcastic look "But I brought them in, remember?"

"I wasn't talking to you" Gordon smiled and nodded behind the Huntress, a faint smile apparent on his lips...

Huntress turned, a rebuttal apparent on her lips when she jumped, shocked as her eyes met something other than the wall...tracing upwards past the heavily segmented Kevlar plates and up to the heavy black cowl. It was only then that the slack jawed Huntress realised that Gordon had been intending for a chat with the Batman.

Batman shouldered his way past Huntress with a gentle push as he crossed over the floor, his signature cloak no longer trailing behind him in an effort to preserve the scene.

"Detectives, if you will..." Gordon said calmly. The tone of his voice, however, brooked no argument; Huntress and Phirelli exited the word with not a sound. Batman scowled as Gordon checked the door to ensure they were out of earshot entirely, his gaze switching back to pick up the folder when he was assured they were. "I presume you got my message" extracting photos and looking at them in the light briefly before putting them away just as quickly, his back turned to the Batman. "Dent was right...You are a hard man to reach..."

"How did you know how to contact me?" Batman asked implacably in his gruff tone, Gordon turned and looked over his shoulder, finally turning completely to see the other man eye to eye before he shrugged, looking away slightly as if in thought as he talked

"I figured you'd be in contact with at least someone from the Citizens for Batman group..." Gordon shrugged again and smiled inwardly "Turns out I must be right..."

"and the case?" Batman asked, inclining his head at the folder, Gordon withdrew the photos and handed them over. After all, what did he need them for anyway?

"We have two on this. One's our Joker character, except from the second photo, he may have picked up a groupie or something. Armed Robbery..." Jim began reading "killed 5 people, including 2 off duty cops which were almost definitely working with him..." Batman merely looked at the photos, keeping an impassive tone the entire time "number two, however, is something completely different...its an Isis statuette..."

"Bast" Batman corrected, his gaze flicking over the photograph of the obsidian cat

"Well a Bast statuette then...appears our criminal has a fetish for cats. Know anything about a Catwoman of late?" Jim asked sardonically as he flicked through to another paper in the folder...his gaze occupied by the numbers...

"Oh and did you want to know what accounts were stolen from?" Jim asked, his gaze still idling over the bank statement "20 million from the Gotham Police Force, 50 Million from the Harvey Dent Fund for Law Scholarships and..." Jim looked up...

The Batman was gone...

"...50 million from Bruce Waynes corporate account..." Jim finished his sentence uneasily before he swallowed, talking to the darkness in Batman's absence as he looked up the ceiling nervously. "...and just for the record fact I hate it when you do that..."


End file.
